


Holographic

by chennychenchinchen



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, M/M, Reality check
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 11:53:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6853567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chennychenchinchen/pseuds/chennychenchinchen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chanyeol awakens in a cemetery to the sobs of a boy. It's a shame how difficult is to know what's truely real anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holographic

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The celebrities' names/images are merely borrowed and do not represent who the celebrities are in real life. No offense is intended towards them, their families or friends. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this fictional work. No copyright infringement is intended.

The grass felt warm. Almost too warm.

  
Chanyeol’s eyelids fluttered open to the sight of a colony of leaves and the branches of a tree above his head. They branches waved in the light wind as if to say hello, and the grass followed its lead, brushing back and forth against his fingertips.

  
This was not where Chanyeol last remembered himself. Last time he was conscious, he had been staring at a dull ceiling, the beeping of a heart monitor in the background. However, past that point, nearly all of his memories were blank. Chanyeol only seemed to remember his name and tiny flashes of moments, ones of which were probably a lot more important than his head made them out to me. And yet.... He couldn’t find himself to care. He closed his eyes again, inhaling the intoxicating scent of nature.

  
Before he could relish more in his calmness of mind, a choked sob rang in Chanyeol’s ear. It was so saturated of sadness and regret, like the tune of a nightingale. It sounded so familiar. Like he had heard that noise many times before, through many days and nights. It haunted him. Chanyeol sat up, curious of the source of such sorrow that he recognized.

  
Stones of which could easily be colored hundreds of different monotones met his vision, in organized rows as if they were soldiers of an army. Some were tall and elegant, words inscribed in large, ornate script. Others were just small plaques in the ground. Some had bouquets of fluorescent flowers resting upon them. Others were bare. It wasn’t a scary and neglected cemetery that was typically depicted in movies, books, and the like. Clouds rolled through the sky, birds chirping and singing.

 

It was peaceful.

  
It was then when the first question panged in Chanyeol’s sedated mind.

  
_What am I doing here?_

  
But then the sob carried across the field yet again, and the small train of thought fell from its perch immediately. Placing his hand above his eyebrows to act as a visor against the blinding sun, Chanyeol’s eyes grazed the field in search for its source. Far away in the distance, Chanyeol could see a quivering silhouette. Another sob elicited from that direction. Chanyeol stood up and drew closer.

  
It was a boy. He was on his knees, hunched over a grave of which was surrounded with many white flowers; surely the sign of a recent death. His face was in his hands, his elbows digging painfully into his thighs. His mocha-colored hair was messy, though shiny with gel on some locks as if the boy had attempted to make himself presentable, but stopped halfway. When he pulled his hands away, Chanyeol could see just how red and swollen his eyes were. Tear tracks littered his face, smeared in blotches across his cheeks due to his hands. The boy’s tears continued to fall heavy. They trekked down his face, glittering brilliantly in the sunlight for a brief second when they reached the peak of his cheekbones, before spilling down his cheeks and dripping off his chin.

  
There was no word to describe him other than broken.

  
The nagging in Chanyeol’s head grew stronger. Something felt wrong; Chanyeol couldn’t ignore the feeling of déjà vu that washed over him, even in his euphoric state. He had seen this boy somewhere, and the boy had been crying then, too. Chanyeol was sure of it. The small flashes in his mind told him so.

  
A name rang loud and clear in the cloudiness of Chanyeol’s head from out of nowhere.

  
_Baekhyun_.

It wasn’t a name Chanyeol seemed to recognize, and yet when his mind spoke it, it was laced with so much fondness. An overload of warmness. A dim undertone of sorrow.

  
The boy brought his hands back up to his face quickly, as if he couldn’t stand seeing the grave in front of him. As if he was disgusted by the sight. The boy let out yet another yelp.

  
“I’m sorry,” the boy rocked back and forth on his knees, his hands never coming off of his face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” And those were the only two words he could say for a while. He repeated them almost as if they were a chant.

  
Though doleful and pitying, the boy looked so beautiful all the same. Something in Chanyeol couldn’t stand to see the boy cry. He reached his hand out slowly, in effort to not startle the boy.  
However, when he finally placed his hand on the boy, his fingers dipped into the boy’s back. And despite appearing to be touching him, Chanyeol didn’t feel anything upon his fingertips. No quivering yet warm body. Only air.

  
Chanyeol’s worst fears came true when he reached out a bit more, and his hand sunk right through the surface of the boy’s body. Chanyeol’s eyes widened, his breathing growing erratic. His hand was partway through the boy’s back. It had phased through him, but it was in no way stuck. Chanyeol could still wiggle his fingers and twirl his wrist. The boy didn’t seem to notice a thing; he continued to cry and quiver all the same. 

  
It was as if the boy wasn’t really there. As if he was the semblance of something that used to be more. As if he was a hologram. And yet, he looked so real. Chanyeol didn’t understand, and he once again glanced around his surroundings.

  
Was anything here real? The delicate leaves? The warm grass? The rolling clouds? The chirping birds? The elegant gravestones? The sobbing boy? Were they really there, or was it just Chanyeol’s imagination?

  
It was then in the midst of Chanyeol’s confusion when the boy let out a new string of words.

  
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please come back to me,” the boy pleaded. His tears leaked through his hands as he shook. “I love you, Chanyeol, I’m sorry, I love you, please come back, I’m sorry.”

  
Chanyeol froze. He stood up, his arm phasing out of the boy’s body and dropping back down to his side. He, too, was shaking as he peered over the boy’s shoulder to look at the gravestone.

  
Sure enough, in fancy letters, the words _Park Chanyeol_ were engraved into its surface.

  
It wasn’t the delicate leaves, the warm grass, the rolling clouds, the chirping birds, the elegant gravestones, nor was it the sobbing boy that wasn’t really there.

  
It was Chanyeol.

**Author's Note:**

> Un-betaed, so I'm incredibly sorry if you saw any mistakes!
> 
> The idea for this fic came to me because of a German song we're singing in choir class. Thanks, Germany.
> 
> Any form of feedback would be wonderful! Thank you for reading!
> 
> //
> 
> talk to me [here](https://curiouscat.me/chennychenchinchen)


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